


Abstinence of Affection

by sagilarious



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Bondage and Discipline, Embedded Images, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-18
Updated: 2018-10-18
Packaged: 2019-08-03 17:07:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16330130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sagilarious/pseuds/sagilarious
Summary: “...Ibara...I am your leader, correct?”“You are the leader of our unit Adam, of course, Your Excellency.”“...Am I still the unit’s leader off stage, without a script?”“Yes, Excellency, your title is everlasting!”“So you’ll follow my orders, as part of my unit?”“O-of course, Your Excellency, sir.”“...Then let me have you.”





	Abstinence of Affection

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TeaWitchJo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeaWitchJo/gifts).



> I'd like to thank ensemble stars for creating a boy who wants to become more than human, who's obsessed with the bible and sin, who occasionally refers to himself and his obvious boyfriend as monsters and villains, whose name is Nagisa Ran. I love him and I really did like writing this...I hope you (especially Jo!) like it, too!

“...Ibara,” Nagisa began, running a hand through his classmate’s hair. It’s soft, yet thicker than appearances show—conditioned out of any tangles. “...I am your leader, correct?”

Ibara furrows his brows, eyes opening and mouth sliding off Nagisa’s cock with a wet _pop!_ There’s a pause to adjust his breathing, he swallows. “You are the leader of our unit Adam, of course, Your Excellency.” Ibara answers, voice hoarse. Mouth opening wider, he points his tongue, beginning to lick around Nagisa’s glands: but today he wouldn’t be distracted.

“...Am I still the unit’s leader off stage, without a script?” He asks, fist grasping Ibara’s hair firmly to make him focus. Ibara had on an expression he wore when Nagisa went off on a tangent he found irritating or unproductive—always too polite to say, but the displeasure was there if one looked hard enough. Nagisa let him pout.

“Yes, Excellency, your title is everlasting!” Ibara answers quickly, eye twitching down from his still hard dick as if making a point.

“So you’ll follow my orders, as part of my unit?” Nagisa replies, swiftly for him. He watches Ibara’s face from cheek to ear turn pink; suddenly Ibara is paying much more attention to his face.

“O-of course, Your Excellency, _sir_.” Ibara answers, eyes seeming to dilate as if Nagisa has done anything other than ask a question.

It was difficult for Nagisa to comprehend the whims of duplicitous people like Ibara, so he is happy to know Ibara is interested in following his orders off stage (as Hiyori implied he would be). That meant that this was a plan he could enact smoothly. With a final, gentle caress through red hair Nagisa knelt down to Ibara’s level, meeting his wide eyes steadily. “Then let me have you.”

 

***

 

Nagisa disliked complicated things. Growing attracted to the other half of his unit ‘Adam’, and deciding to _pursue_ that attraction was about as complicated a thing he’d ever entertained in his young life.

Though he knew carnal lust was a sin, growing up with someone as promiscuous as Hiyori and never being struck with true damnation had made him think of _desire_ more simply; fucking was plainly impulse mixed with intimacy, and God asked more than anything for a congregation of man. So there was less of a _why_ for him, when his heart grew fond of Ibara, and more of a _how_. Nagisa found his yearning left no room for preoccupations of right and wrong, as if Ibara had truly slipped him the golden apple and opened his eyes to the truth of his imperfect humanity.

Of course Ibara, ever complex, ever elusive, did not match his opinions on desire: when Nagisa made advances towards him, Ibara had a militarian solution. He took it in stride, ears a bit pink, and let Nagisa kiss him; then sucked him off in their practice room while jerking himself to completion in the process. Nagisa was hardly sad, but found himself unsatiated after the first time; after all, he was unable to reciprocate.

Only—each time since then, Ibara has done the exact same no matter what, and never let Nagisa see any part of him that wasn’t his erection.

It was becoming a frustration; Nagisa thought his favoritism towards Ibara was plain to see. Certainly he spent more time with his classmate than anyone else in his life, and by choice, too! Ibara must have seen his advances as superficial, perfunctory, as he needlessly rejected any compliments paid to him by Nagisa with false cheer and the occasional outright denial.

Nagisa didn’t care about things like being _used_ as an idol—he did want to be an idol, yes, and if Ibara kept pace with him how was it a negative? The guilt his classmate— _friend_ felt for some sleight Nagisa hardly paid attention to—that was the wall blocking him from truly accepting Nagisa intimately.

And so, as always, Nagisa consulted Hiyori on how to win him over.

 

***

 

Nagisa secures the last cuff onto Ibara’s left wrist after sliding it through the bars of the headboard, giving the belted leather a firm pull to see if it would hold. Once satisfied with its sturdiness he glances at Ibara, who makes eye contact with him and gives a queasy smile.

“Who knew your excellency had such refined taste! I can tell the high quality of the leather used just from the, ah, texture,” Ibara rambles, immediately looking at his collarbones, his chest, anywhere but into Nagisa’s eyes “And the fur lining is so soft, is it rabbit? You must tell me where you acquired such tools, excellency, so I may pay their manufacturers my greatest compliments!”

They were Hiyori’s, but Nagisa didn’t think Ibara really wanted an answer; sometimes he seemed to ramble just to fill space. Nagisa shifted, straddling Ibara’s lap as he tilted the other boy’s chin towards himself.

“...I won’t tie down your legs. If I do anything you don’t like, tell me.” Nagisa says, closer and closer to Ibara’s blue eyes. He felt Ibara swallow just before pressing their lips together, still holding his classmate firmly in place.

Ibara took a few more firm pecks to relax minutely, letting his lips caress Nagisa’s the way he has in the past—though in the past, their kisses were usually wet, panting things, Nagisa tasting his cum inside Ibara’s mouth as he sucked at his tongue. The thought alone is enough to make Nagisa huff, licking at the seam of Ibara’s lips. _I want this_ , Nagisa felt his lips say as their tongues met in a wet slide. _I want you,_ Nagisa thought as Ibara bit at his lip, hard, before sucking at the bruised flesh all the worse as if to consume him whole. _I am here for you,_ Nagisa willed Ibara to understand as their chests aligned through their uniforms, the kiss of two heartbeats aligning as poetic as it is sensual.

Through their kissing, Nagisa hastily worked on unbuttoning his uniform, discarding his shirt as soon as he could. The shorter time he took on himself the better—he felt that Ibara would somehow find a way to slide his way out of this if he didn’t hurry. He swiftly undressed down to his boxer briefs before straddling Ibara again, pointedly removing the other’s shirt with the same speed. Ibara was uncharacteristically quiet; Nagisa figures this was a positive sign, Ibara letting him do as he pleased. He couldn’t shed the shirt entirely with Ibara’s hands bound the way they were, but it painted an appealing picture pushed away from his chest and draping down his shoulders.

Nagisa observed the calculated breaths he took—Ibara was slighter than Hiyori, chest and rib cage smaller. There was a delicacy to his pale skin that was contrasted by the presence of several visible scars across his torso. Nagisa’s long fingers traced the path of one as Ibara flinched at the sudden contact, following the bumpy ridges of it to his nipple and rubbing at it lightly, teasingly. Ibara’s face was flushing slowly. As Nagisa pinched the nipple between his fingers and began to place a wet kiss to his friends pulse, Ibara gasped “Excellency...”

Nagisa has a thought, dragging a sharp canine up the curve where Ibara’s neck meets his shoulder. “...When will you call me Nagisa?” he asks, into the shell of the others ear.

Ibara shudders, Nagisa brings both hands to bother at his chest, pinching and flicking his nipples even as he poses the question. He can feel Ibara’s interest in between his legs; solid and warm through their school slacks. “I—You know I simply prefer polite habits due to _mmm_ , my upbringing in a— _military_ environment,” Ibara explains haltingly, squirming in an effort not to move his hips and give away his embarrassing excitement. As if Nagisa didn’t know how he felt—Ibara was still being distant even like this.

Nagisa frowns. “...I’ve told you I don’t like complicated things like that. And you said you’d follow my orders, _Ibara_.”

Ibara keens, startling himself and pleasing Nagisa. “ _I’m_ —you’re perfectly right your Excellency I must apologize for misguiding you with my flippant, uh, agreement to…” He loses steam, tilting his head to the side in willful submission and going quiet as Nagisa sucks a bruise onto the side of his neck. Ibara blinks, taking in a breath as if to continue, but when Nagisa bites down on the tender flesh he lets the air out in a sigh.  

“How am I your leader if you won’t do as I say? _Liar_ …” Nagisa says, grinding his hardon onto Ibara’s stomach. Ibara shook a little, then went suddenly tense; swallowing.

“If...if I’m not obeying you properly, your Excellency, perhaps you might need to enact, ah, disciplinary measures?”

Nagisa sat up on his hands and met Ibara’s eyes curiously. They were almost shy behind his square glasses, but glinted with a hint of mischief. Hiyori told him about that kind of thing before—sensual punishments and people enjoying pain. Nagisa wasn’t surprised by this, in fact a dark part of him was thrilled.

“...Yeah, okay.” Nagisa answers, undoing the cuff attached to Ibara’s left hand. “Flip over on your knees.”

He saw Ibara grin widely before complying.

 

***

 

For once in Ibara’s natural life, and hopefully for last, he thought he may have to thank Hiyori.

Surely the spoilt rich whore was good for something, if only preparing Nagisa to become less catatonic and more personable to work with, or helping with Eden’s finances while sitting on his pile of money—but that wasn’t all. Ibara found himself thoroughly grateful and pleasantly surprised that his annoying ally had _definitely_ trained Nagisa to sexually dominate.

Thinking about them fooling around always gave Ibara a twisted sense of jealousy, but to be _honest_ , Ibara was the sort who savored the bitter before the sweet.

Hands bound above his head and resting on his knees, Ibara’s back arched as Nagisa swiftly removed his pants and underwear. This was so much better than just blowing him in their practice rooms—even with his ugliness and scars exposed, in a situation about _humiliation_ it only enhanced Ibara’s high. Quiet Nagisa who hardly touched him outside of a live or a practice wanting him in this way made him queasy before, but Nagisa wanting to punish him for his wrong doings? That was contradictory to how this began, and much less about feelings than about fucking, and violence: all Ibara’s comfort zones in one potent molotov cocktail.

Nagisa stares at Ibara’s naked form for a moment, drinking in what he had been hiding. Scars litter Ibara’s skin, some whiter than the flesh around them, some pinkish and tender looking. Several seem to be cigarette burns—but if Nagisa takes too much time to admire the intricacies told in Ibara’s skin he’s certain somehow Ibara will worm his way out of this. So, he unloops the belt from his uniform slacks and folds it in two with a hand on the buckle, placing it down on the bed close enough for Ibara to see.

“...I’ll start, then.” Nagisa says, positioning himself slightly to the side and smacking Ibara’s thigh with a sudden _thwack._ Ibara flinches, nodding in confirmation and closing his eyes, the muscles in his back clenching in anticipation.

Spanking is about the build up, Nagisa had learned from fooling around with Hiyori. You began lighter, in areas with more fat—the roundest parts of the ass, the thighs. Then you could be rougher towards more sensitive parts, landing a smack squarely against the perineum, or nearer to the tailbone. He didn’t understand the appeal at first, and sometimes it made him wonder but, to see someone’s skin slowly redden, to have their sounds breach the line of pleasure and pain—Nagisa likes it. To have Ibara like this...he likes it a lot.

Ibara is wound tightly like always—but in an entirely new way. He’s quiet the first few times, his skin pinkening in places, becoming irritated as its struck over and over. Nagisa wonders if he should be keeping count, if he should have asked Ibara to keep count if only to hear the strain in his voice but—it’s pleasurable enough to use all his strength to draw a reaction out of his friend this way.

After all, every person has their breaking point.

Nagisa finally wrings a cut off groan from Ibara, and feels victory. He smacks his open palm, fingers wide at the connection of his ass and thighs, striking sensitive skin below Ibara’s sack. He hits there again, and again, and Ibara writhes from the concentrated treatment, whining low. So Nagisa needed to be tougher for the reaction he wanted— _very well_ , he thought, steadying his rough breathing and reaching for the belt nearby.

Ibara felt Nagisa grab at the thick leather and moaned “ _Yes,_ ” louder than any noise he’d let out so far. He was thrilled to be hurt at all, spanked or otherwise, but he needed _more_ . Nagisa was practically teasing him; Ibara had a high tolerance for pain from many poor (self destructive) choices made in the past—so he was teetering on the edge of subspace. It was just enough that he wasn’t so uncomfortable, but too little to get his brain to shut off about everything; thinking of scheduling, classes, (Nagisa), thinking of the last time he was fully naked around _anyone_ , getting hit, bruising, (satisfying but not good), it was all still swirling around in his head and he wanted it _shut off._

The belt’s leather snapped, sound cutting through Ibara’s thoughts like a hot knife through butter. It came down on his flank as he rested heavily on his elbows and _yelped_ . The sting was heftier than using just a hand, the hit faster and more concentrated; it was _perfect_.

Nagisa hit him with precise intervals, moments to breathe in between and tense again while trying to predict where the belt would land next. By the time his cycle broke from the norm and the belt struck Ibara’s lower back, the moan ripped from his throat was nearly feral. It was a guttural sound that made Nagisa shiver all over, grip the belt harder and bring it down again off-rhythm. Ibara began to writhe on his sheets.

The welts were beginning to layer from pink to red to angry burgundy, as Ibara finally started to fall. His head felt light, like he wasn’t breathing enough as pain blooms over his back and ass, all the way down to his thighs. His own precum feels strangely cool where it drips down onto his stomach and thigh; he’s fever hot. This is what he wants, what he _deserves_ , he’s half certain he’s thanked Nagisa aloud and profusely as the belt strikes again against his thigh muscles when there’s a sudden pause. Ibara holds his breath for a long time, releasing it only when he hears no movement save Nagisa’s breathing.

Ibara turns back to him, blinking away moisture blurring in his eyes, when did he start to cry? “Your excellency?” He asks carefully, voice grating over each syllable as if it were torturous to speak.

Nagisa looks disheveled, face pink with exertion, chest sweaty. It’s not an uncommon appearance for someone he’s practiced with dozens of occasions, but the plain desire in his eyes shoots through Ibara like a chill. It is coldly that he replies: “Nagisa.”

Ibara blinks harder, his glasses are smudged; “I beg your pardon?”

“You call me—“ He grips Ibara’s asscheek in one hand, nails digging into tender skin cruelly; Ibara gasped “—Nagisa, or I’ll stop. Isn’t that a greater punishment?”

Ibara trembles, glancing ahead, and back, then once again meeting Nagisa’s eyes. “...Nagisa,” he whispers, hoping that it doesn’t give him away; that Nagisa can’t hear the affection, the vulnerability in Ibara’s voice.

Nagisa smiles at him, simply, cruelly, and picks back up the belt. Ibara hears himself sigh like a lovesick fool before closing his eyes and willing his senses back into the sweet blank space—

—But he’s startled open again, as Nagisa latches the belt around the bottom of his thighs, forcing them together tightly. His cock is pushed out under them, tucked between his legs as Nagisa pushed his knees up, raising his ass higher on display.

“I thought you wouldn’t bind my legs?” was the only reply Ibara could think to give, breath heavy with restrained excitement.

“...changed my mind.” Nagisa says, striking him hard on the ass, grazing his sensitive dick and making Ibara cry out.

Nagisa was always one drawn to whims Ibara couldn’t understand, and not knowing what to expect next was driving him mad. Nagisa wanted that tension from him, still; he wanted to be the one to release Ibara from it too. After a few harsh slaps to his ass, Nagisa licks a long stripe from his crack, down past his asshole all the way to the head of his cock. Ibara’s breath sounded more like a wheeze with his head so stuffed into the pillow. He sucked at the head for a moment, tongue swirling before letting it go.

“Ibara,” Nagisa breathes onto his dick, petting at the welts on his raised hips. “say my name again.”

Ibara gasped in a few breaths, but complied: “Nagisa.” He jolted, as the aforementioned bit into his thigh hard. “N-nagisa,” Ibara repeated, to the slow wet trailing of Nagisa’s tongue flat up his ass. Nagisa revelled in the taste of salt on Ibara’s skin, in the sound of surrender in his voice. He breathes deeply, spreading Ibara’s cheeks to reveal his entrance.

“ _Nagisa_?” Ibara repeats again, sounding like a question as he squeaks on the pronunciation, Nagisa twirling his tongue onto Ibara’s asshole.

Legs collapsing under him, Ibara shifts to the side with a jolt of shock. Nagisa follows him down, determined and places a wet kiss at his hole, pulling away his asscheeks for access to the sensitive skin. If Ibara was snake-like before there was certainly a kinship now; he was writhing and wriggling in his binding like never before. _Probably shouldn’t have bound his legs together_ , Nagisa thinks belatedly while using the flat of his tongue to lap at Ibara’s twitching hole.

Ibara moans, restrained by his wrists and legs tied together but still tensing and relaxing in waves, the fight in his body there even as his sensible mind screams _god yes._ Nagisa’s tongue is in such a dirty place all he wants to do is scream, or struggle, or take it like a good slut and the dizzying arousal is a heady drug. As Nagisa’s tongue eases its way inside him, Ibara hears him start to touch himself. Just the sound of Nagisa getting off to this while his tongue pulses in and out of his asshole like he would want Nagisa’s cock to do—Ibara sobs.

Nagisa hooks a thumb into Ibara beside his tongue, stretching him out with his spit to delve deeper inside him. He wants to put his dick in, but he’s conflicted with how good it feels to fuck Ibara with just his mouth; all that pain and punishment and pleading surmounting in a need to make him feel _good_. There was no greater tease than to watch Ibara’s backside wiggle and redden without the real skin against skin sound of fucking into him like they both really wanted; it was edging on painful restraint, holding back.

Nagisa was panting into his asshole, hot and cold breath making Ibara even more sensitive, even less sensical. He was drooling, crying, he felt like his dick was throbbing from a lack of attention but knew as soon as Nagisa touched it he’d be gone. His cock trapped under his thighs like it was was a strain, especially with how he couldn’t stop squirming away or towards Nagisa’s _mouth._

His classmate seemed to notice, or take pity on him, or maybe just want to; Nagisa pulled away with one last wet kiss and undid the belt around his thighs. Ibara let out a teary sound, pathetic and whining as Nagisa manipulated him back to his original position on his knees, ass in the air. Pulling his boxer briefs low Nagisa rubbed himself against the raw skin of Ibara’s ass with a satisfied sigh. It was sweet relief to let his dick touch anything but—he pulls Ibara’s cheeks apart to stare at the glistening spit he’d left all over his asshole. It looked wet, inviting as Nagisa rubbed a circle around the winking hole, Ibara still clenching around nothing like he missed his tongue there most.

Nagisa spread his knees to bracket Ibara’s hips and lined his cock up up with the other boy’s asscrack. Ibara moans immediately, like Nagisa had struck him hard again, torn from his throat. Bending over him chest-to-back, Nagisa’s mouth reaches Ibara’s ear and bites, whispering “Do you want me to fuck you?”

There’s a hiccup to Ibara’s breathing before he speaks; “ _Yes_ , Exce— _Nagisa,_ I do,” Nagisa licks the shell of his ear, wiggling his tongue inside of it just to feel the way Ibara’s whole body shakes. “Please.”

Seeming to consider, Nagisa rocks his hips forward, cock rubbing against Ibara’s slick entrance, his spit doing wonders for the friction of their skin. Ibara stutters out another plea, Nagisa thrusts forward again, hands trailing down to Ibara’s chest to pinch harshly at his nipples.

“ _No_ ,” Nagisa responds, and humps Ibara’s backside as he whimpers. This close he sees tears of frustration fall from his eyes, eyebrows furrowed and face red; a strange part of Nagisa thinks it’s beautiful. Ibara sobs as Nagisa claws down his chest as harshly as he can, feeling his ass twitch back against him anyway.

“Don’t you want to know why, Ibara.” Nagisa says, not a question. Ibara is still pushing his ass back onto him, letting the rapidly drying skin between them rub in a sad parody of what they could be doing. It was delicious, and disappointing, and the best thing Ibara’s ever had. He doesn’t need to answer Nagisa with words before he continues: “...I won’t fuck you, because that's what you want.”

Ibara gasps, chest suddenly tight around his lungs, eyes stinging as Nagisa thrusts against him, so much, not enough; “Sometimes willful restraint is a pious act, refraining from food to fast, or mortal sin to preach.” He attempts to shift his hips down, so his dripping erection will rub against the sheets but Nagisa chooses that time to adjust himself, leaning back to squeeze Ibara’s ass around his cock. Nagisa takes a shuddering breath at the new sensation, continuing almost conversationally, “There’s godliness in repentance, and in the punishment of deprivation.”

Nails digging into flesh bring vibrant red crescent moons to the skin of Ibara’s ass. “You deprived me, when I came to you as a sinner, as a human, and you thought it was a whim.” Nagisa is rutting himself onto Ibara faster, groaning, voice dark and low as he accuses. The precum leaking from his throbbing cock slicks up Ibara’s asscrack and lowerback; all Ibara can think of is the way Nagisa feels in his mouth, the viciousness of his tone, he wants to _taste it with his tongue_ —

“I want to fuck you too, Ibara. I want to bury myself inside you the way lowly animals do, the way flawed wayward souls— _damn_ themselves.” Nagisa takes himself into his hand, smearing the head of his cock against Ibara’s asshole and cutting himself off with his own heavy breathing. He bends down over the other boy again, finally reaching between Ibara’s legs and gripping his erection almost painfully; it’s already leaked a puddle onto the sheets. Ibara cries out like a man dying, and Nagisa responds with his own low sound of arousal, and frustration. “—If I must be damned for being human, so be it. If I must be damned for wanting, so be it. I want you Ibara, and you depriving me of that means I will deprive you of this,” Nagisa adds, jerking them both off in unison, hearing Ibara’s sobbing sounds, feeling Ibara twist under him, fucking his fist with abandon. He’s teetering on the precipice when Nagisa makes a point, a whispering, hissed confession, “ _I will not fuck you until you know that I want you._ ”

Nagisa’s hand pumps over the head of his cock once, twice, and Ibara is gone. His eyes roll back as black spots his vision, letting out a sound broken by his voice giving out halfway as he empties himself out onto the bed below them. He feels Nagisa cum, painting his ass and back with hot stripes that keep going, a beautiful crescendoing moan leaving Nagisa’s mouth. Coming down all Ibara can think is how he wants to kiss that mouth, lick and taste him...Nagisa clings to his back as they both shake, leaving wet kisses all along his spine up to Ibara’s neck. “I covet you, Ibara... _let me_.”

Nagisa affords himself a few dozen seconds in the afterglow before unbinding Ibara. He brings his arms down, massaging each wrist for a moment as they both lay on their sides, breathing evening in sync. Giving Ibara a light kiss to the cheek, Nagisa slips off the bed to grab a washcloth and soak it in warm water—he comes back to Ibara in the same position, eyes closed. Nagisa puts a hand on his shoulder gently, Ibara’s eyes open and look at him, strangely weary. Ibara tries to grab for the cloth but Nagisa shakes his head. “...Let me.” He echoes, which quiets Ibara.

Ibara’s expression is hard to read as Nagisa cleans his skin of fluids (cum, spit, some blood from a few small cuts), but his breathing is steady and he doesn’t turn away any extra caresses, the occasional kiss. Nagisa puts the soiled cloth in a bin and grabs lotion from his nightstand as well, Ibara seems surprised by this if the slight quirk of his eyebrows is anything to go by.

Ibara notices him noticing, “Ah, just—impressed by your thorough preparation, Your Excellency~.” He says, voice sore but in good humor. Nagisa glances at him as he turns himself over, with plain confusion “...Your Excellency again?” Nagisa comments, beginning to rub the soothing aloe lotion onto Ibara’s thighs first.

“Ah,” Ibara pauses, ears pink, “You…meant for me to call you Nagisa outside of—‘play’ as well?”

Nagisa is frowning as he rubs the ointment onto the rest of Ibara’s irritated skin. “...Of course. I meant everything I said.”

The statement sinks into Ibara’s clearing mind slowly, as Nagisa puts the lotions away and half lays across his back, warm and close. _Everything_ he said?

“...Ibara.” Nagisa says, into his hair softly. “Call me Nagisa.”

Ibara turns to him, still in Nagisa’s arms as their legs tangled together. There’s a warmth in his eyes Ibara had been ignoring, willfully; affections he’d felt uncomfortable accepting. His hands are against Nagisa’s chest, feeling the syncopation of his heartbeat through his palms.

“Let’s rest a while...Nagisa.” Ibara says, closing his eyes to Nagisa’s warmth, opening his heart to it—just a bit. Surely, it couldn’t hurt in a way Ibara wouldn’t enjoy.

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies if there are any inaccuracies to current canon for Ibara and Nagisa's relationship or banter--I have not finished reading all of S.S. translated which is a crime.  
> Still, I hope you enjoyed!!
> 
> Happy Birthday, Jo! You are an irreplaceable friend. I would wax poetically about you if notes didn't have a 5000 character limit; it wouldn't be enough room to tell you how great you are!!
> 
> And thanks SO MUCH to the wonderful artist behind the accompanying art to the fic: MEOW THE FRIENDLY INTERNET CAT! Possibly a literal cat with very dexterous, and skilled thumbs. Bless you for this collaboration, it brought me hours of smiles; and also I got a boner.


End file.
